


Day 3- Healing

by Broken_Clover



Series: 12 Days of Whump [3]
Category: Guilty Gear
Genre: Childhood Friends, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-19 21:31:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17009586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broken_Clover/pseuds/Broken_Clover
Summary: Living in an orphanage for assassins isn't the best upbringing, but sometimes you can still find friends in odd places.





	Day 3- Healing

**Author's Note:**

> Could be seen as a continuation of my Goretober fic for day 8, 'Tied Up,' but the story stands on its own.

Venom was in pain.

Then again, it seemed like he was always in pain nowadays. That was how the Assassin’s Guild seemed to work. If he wasn’t sore and bruised from pushing his body to its limits during training, he was sore and injured from being punished for not managing to give the results that the Guild wanted from him.

Right now, he was in the latter category. His eyes were still squinting and blinking furiously to adjust to the light after being locked in the closet for who knew how long. Through the disorientation, he had to remind himself not to succumb to the faint but persistent itching of his wrists, or risk injuring himself further.

The Guild’s medics hadn’t bothered using their healing magic to deal with the deep cuts left by the rough rope they’d used to tie his wrists and ankles together, nor the scrapes running down his cheek and arm from where they’d ground against the concrete floor as he squirmed. The medics had been content to do nothing more than slap some sparse bandages on his wounds and throw him out of the infirmary.

When he finally managed to limp back to the orphanage’s living area, Venom realized that it was still daytime outside- or, perhaps, it was daytime once again. On the far side of the long room, the other children were all lined up by folding tables that held big pots and trays of food. It seemed that he’d shown up just in time for lunch.

Able to forget the pain for a moment, he hobbled over towards the line with an eager smile. Before he could join the end proper, though, a hand shot in front of his face.

“Huh?” He looked up to find a blonde-haired older boy with a cruel smile. Venom couldn’t remember his name, but he knew that he was one of the Guild’s younger officers, often wandering around with his eyes on the children to make sure they didn’t try to escape or start any mischief.

“Where d’ya think you’re going, _redrojo?_ ”

As fruitless as it was, Venom reached out to try and push past him. He still hadn’t been allowed to eat since before the elders had put him in the closet, and just looking at the food made his stomach growl for anything he could get his hands on.

In between the pots of soup and plates of sandwiches, Venom saw a silver tray of sugar cookies in different shapes, frosted and and dusted with colored sprinkles. How often did the Guild let them have cookies?

“Don’t ignore me.” The older boy’s voice sharpened, and Venom felt a hand grip his injured arm and twist it sharply. He tried not to make a sound, but the force made him cry out and and made tears start welling up in his eyes.

“I-I-” He stammered pathetically, reaching his free arm out towards the table. “I’m hungry- I want a cookie-”

The hand around his wrist tightened, and the taller boy twisted him around in one smooth movement. Venom stuck his hands out as a hand shoved against his back, making him stumble for balance before he ultimately tripped on the corner of a rug and hit the floor face-first.

“Not a chance, brat.” He could almost hear the boy’s ugly sneer. “No food for failures.”

A cacophony of laughter sounded behind him. Feeling the heat rise in his cheeks, Venom scrambled to his feet and ran to the other side of the room. He shoved his little body into the nook where the couch leaned against the wall, one of the few places where he couldn’t be seen.

Everything hurt again. He had no reservations in letting himself cry, curling up into a little ball. Shaking hands raked strands of his bone-white hair over his face, hiding his eyes and tear-stained cheeks so nobody else could see them. His stomach growled again.

The room quickly went back to its usual hubbub, as though nothing had happened at all. Even behind the couch, he could hear forks and spoons scraping against plates, and the cheerful chattering of children as they found places to sit and talk among each other.

What could he do? The other kids knew he was a failure. If he went out, they still wouldn’t feed him. All he’d be do was stare longingly in the hopes that someone would take pity on him and toss him a scrap. But it was more likely that they’d throw things at him for the sake of seeing him cry again and make an idiot out of himself. The underside of the couch was cramped, but for now, it seemed like the safest place to be.

_“Privet…?”_

Venom clapped hands over his mouth, trying not to scream at the sudden voice. He pressed back into his hiding space, trying to make himself harder to notice if it was an adult coming to punish him some more.

The girl currently kneeling by the couch and peering behind it didn’t look too much older, maybe a year or two more than him. It was a very small reassurance, though, and he was still unwilling to relax from his stiff, cramped position and come any closer, even as she looked at him.

_“S toboy vse v poryadke?”_

Was he hearing her incorrectly? It sounded like she was speaking gibberish. Despite his aversion, he scooted closer just slightly, trying to hear her better. “What are you saying?”

As he inched towards the slice of light that slipped into the crawlspace, the girl’s bright blue eyes caught sight of the white bandages knotted around his arm. She chewed at her bottom lip, with a pained expression of her own.

 _“Gde bolit?”_ She asked, head tilted.

No, he hadn’t been hearing her wrong. She didn’t speak English. Some elder had mentioned that offhand, once. They gathered orphans from all over the world, so sometimes they spoke other languages. But what was she speaking?

 _“Gde bolit?”_ The girl asked again. When he didn’t reply, she bowed her head and pushed herself closer, carefully reaching out towards his bandaged arm.

“G-get away!” He snapped, pulling away from her touch. “Don’t touch me!”

She looked shocked by his loud response. _“Vy ne mozhete- ?”_ Her brows scrunched under her abundant bangs, and her lips tightened into a thin line. “W-where…” The word came out awkwardly, heavily accented. “Where…hurt?”

Venom perked up at that. “Can you speak English?”

Straining again, the girl pinched her fingers together. “ _Plokhoy_ …bad- bad English. Hard.”

“What language do _you_ use?”

_“Russkiy.”_

“Russ…Russian? Are you from Russia?”

She didn’t respond to that. “I come in?”

He paused and blinked at the sudden change. Venom wasn’t sure if he trusted her, but her eyes were kind, and she seemed worried about him.

“Okay.” Pushing back a little further, he patted the empty spot on the wood floor. “Come on in.”

The space went darker as she squeezed in, mostly due to the large amounts of fluffy blonde hair that puffed around her and blocked out the light. It was a tight fit, having two of them in the same spot, but the girl’s eyes were glittering with sheer joy.

 _“Ubezhische!”_ She whispered excitedly. _“Ubezhische!”_ The excitement was momentary, though, as she turned her attention back to the various bandages on Venom’s arms and ankles, and the swatch on his cheek. “Why hurt?”

He had to think. Was she really that new? Did she not know the sort of things that the Guild did?

“I’m a bad assassin.” It seemed like an apt statement, and a simple one. “The Guild only wants good assassins. Bad ones get punished.”

The girl’s eyes went wide, and she began trembling, The already-sparse light flickered and wavered as she shook, making it impossible for Venom to make out her expression.

After a good minute of silence, he felt a hand carefully squeeze his. She brushed the hair out of his eyes and sighed. “Punch sadness.”

“What?”

She sat back and banged her fists together, a gesture that he didn’t need to think too much about to understand. “Punch sadness out.”

Venom threw up his hands, eyes going wide. “N-no, don’t-”

She made no movement to attack him, though. In fact, she looked confused. _“Chto?_ You are sad, I kill it?”

Ohhh. “I-it’s okay.” Venom reassured her. “It doesn’t hurt that bad. And I’m not sad.”

The girl looked unconvinced. He tried to change the subject. “So…um, can I get your name, at least?”

“N-name? Ah…” She perked up a little. _“Milya.”_

“Millia?” It was a pretty name. “I’m Venom.”

“Venom…” His name sounded oddly in her mouth, rolling and peaking in unexpected areas. “I punch Venom’s sad?”

“No, Millia. No punching.”

“Hmph.”

It was at that moment that his stomach decided to make its emptiness clear to him, to Millia, and probably anyone in a ten-meter radius. In his embarrassment and panic, Venom curled back up into a ball.

“Hun-gry?” Millia asked, sounding more than a little concerned. “Venom eat?”

“M’not allowed to.” He whined in reply. “Bad assassins don’t get food.”

“Hmm…”

Something started rustling with movement. When a fragment of light fell over Venom’s body, he uncurled to see what had happened. To his confusion, Millia had wiggled her way back out of the hiding spot and vanished.

“Millia?” He very carefully poked his head out, trying not to be spotted.

Millia was already a decent way across the room, arms swinging with determined confidence. To Venom’s horror, she walked right up to one of the largest boys in the room, at least twice her size and about three times as thick. He seemed uninterested in her at first, but eventually bent down to hear her better. Venom couldn’t hear anything, and the only tells were the shifting of facial expressions, with the taller boy’s eventually turning into a red-faced anger.

“THAT LITTLE SHIT!” In the blink of an eye, the boy was barging his way across the room, shoving kids aside until he picked up another boy the scruff of the neck. “You thief! Any last words before I pound you?!”

The room was quiet, having been quickly thrust into a tense atmosphere. Venom wasn’t sure what Millia had planned, but she made it very obvious as she slammed her fists together again and bared her teeth.

“Fight! Fight!!”

It was like a switch had gone off. As soon as the first boy swung his fist into the second’s nose, the room erupted into chaos. Food was tossed in every conceivable direction, children broke out in scuffles seemingly for the hell of it, clawing and screeching as they rolled around on the floor. The blonde boy from earlier tried to shout and restore order, but his commands were swallowed up by the sheer furious shrillness of children caught in the midst of the madness.

Venom was too scared to watch. He ducked back into the crawlspace and covered his ears, trying not to cry in fear. Was Millia hurt? Had she gotten into a fight with the other kids? What had she done to make them turn so violent?

“Tada Venom! Food!”

In the midst of the chaos, Millia squeezed back in with him. A blanket was bundled in her arms, full of pilfered food from the serving table.

“Millia?” Venom looked over her loot with awe. “Did you get this for me?”

“Ah-ha! Food party!” She seemed positively pleased with herself, pulling out a ham sandwich. “Eat!”

He still felt oddly hesitant. What would the elders do if they found him with stolen food? He could already feel his wounds stinging. He didn’t want to go back in the closet.

Something was dangled in his face. To his amazement, Millia had pilfered him a star-shaped cookie, slathered in white icing and covered in blue sprinkles. “Here! Like hair!”

He really did want a cookie…feeling his reservation lesson, Venom reached out to grab it. Before he could take it from her, though, she pulled back. Her eyes glowed with determination. “Teach me.”

Millia pointed at the snack. “ _Pechen’ye._ How say?”

It took him a moment to decipher her question. “It’s a cookie. The shape is a star.”

“Cookie…star.” She turned it over in her hands and handed it to Venom. “I get good. I get good at English.”

Venom didn’t really like girls- at least, not in the way that the other boys did. He didn’t know why the older ones seemed so intent on staring at them, talking to them. This one seemed unusually kind, though. Perhaps he understood it now.

The two of them happily ate as the fights outside raged on. The happiness of the moment wasn’t going to last forever, but both of them merely sat and enjoyed what they had.

When most of the food was gone, Millia swept it off the blanket and onto the floor. She smacked the fabric a few times to shake the crumbs off. Once it was mostly clean, she tried to lean over and push it over Venom’s shoulders, though it slumped a bit from the odd angle.

“Still…hurt?”

“No. It doesn’t hurt as much now, Millia.”

She nodded fiercely, tugging up the blanket regardless. “Good. No more hurt for Venom.”


End file.
